by Dana Davis
After she did her business and was dressed and fully bound again, anger and determination renewed itself. She had to find a way to get her hands free. Not even Honor could repel the scepter’s magic. Not in this world, anyway. The Hollow was another thing altogether. Kepriah had no idea just how powerful the woman was in that place, but what she had experienced so far did not sit well with her.
Honor placed the shitbucket out in the hall and called for one of the men. Within a few minutes, she had another blanket rolled and placed beneath Kepriah’s head. “The beds in this place are infested. You will remain here. Now, I have things to attend to. Say goodnight.” With that, Honor brought a dart toward Kepriah’s neck.
“Oh sard,” was all she had time to say before the bloody thing pierced her skin. She mentally called for her scepter but it did no good. The hedgegrass was too fast and too strong.
Chapter 29
Something had happened to Kepriah. Earlier, Patrice had felt a surge of fear that unsettled her even more than before. From what she felt now, she suspected someone knocked her eldest sister out, probably with the same drug used on the darts.
Here I am on a strange planet with new sisters, not knowing a screech cat footprint from a jabber track, and they put me in charge of a magical ring that’s supposed to help save two worlds. And with Kepriah gone, I’m in command behind Larissa. These people are seriously twisted. Since coming to this world, Patrice had probably had produced enough stomach acids to form the beginnings of an ulcer.
Her worries for Kepriah didn’t help matters. She wished her eldest sister would come back, and her reasons weren’t all unselfish. Kepriah knew what she was doing, knew how to relate to these warrior men, and knew how to lead them.
Even Larisa is a much better leader than me. Books. That’s what I know. Books and coffee. A longing for both rose up and she fought to keep from groaning about it. She glanced at the key-wound clock Honor had given her, when she realized Jakon stood not three feet from her.
“We should get going.”
Patrice fought a grunt then realized Jakon was talking to Larisa. But if anything happened to Larisa, that task would fall to Patrice. Oh, get a grip. Nothing’s going to happen to her. She forced back the little pessimistic voice that tried to argue.
When the golden-eyed man stood staring at Larisa, the healer said, “I’m coming, Jakon. Just get everyone mounted.”
“That is very well, Second. But you need to make the announcement. They need to know who is in command.”
“Glad it’s not me,” Patrice uttered.
Those golden eyes turned on Patrice. “Excuse me, Third. I am afraid I did not hear that.”
Ever since Kepriah’s kidnapping, Jakon had become harder, stricter. And she knew damn well he heard. The man could hear a fly on jabber crap at fifty feet. “Nothing.”
He raised a black brow and turned back to Larisa. Sometimes Patrice felt like a child in his presence. A miscreant. What she wouldn’t give to have her old life back. Maybe when this hoisting was over, she could bring her new family to Earth, put them up in her home until they adjusted, maybe hire them to work at the Book and Mug. Kepriah would make a good bouncer, not that the Book and Mug needed one but the warrior didn’t know that. Of course, explaining Jakon might take some imagination. Then again, contact lenses could cover his golden eyes and any dentist could file his sharper teeth down.
She wondered what Jackie was doing now? Had the woman found another business partner? Had Patrice’s parents given up the search for their missing daughter? Did her brother home from school when he got the news? What day was it on Earth? What year, for that matter? Despite Jakon’s announcement about the Trine’s birth order and the fact that Patrice’s watch had kept what looked like proper time here, she still wasn’t certain it ran the same on Earth.
She glanced down at her wristwatch, a vintage piece from the 1960s with a beige band and silver tone trim around the face, nothing but a useless piece of jewelry since the battery died. Her father had purchased it for her several years ago, when he attended a conference in New York. She had replaced the band and the battery since then, but now it stared back at her with the large hand near eight and the small hand at six, never to move again. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to put it away.
When it was still running, her watch seemed to have linked up with the hours on Selenea, assuring her of a twenty-four hour day here, but magic let her speak to and understand those on Selenea. And she knew damn well they didn’t speak English on an entirely different world. So she couldn’t trust that her watch had behaved as it should. Despite the fact that she and her new sisters were the same age, twenty-five years on this world could be very different back home.
Her parents and everyone she knew could be long gone by now. No, she had a feeling they were still alive. Someplace deep inside she felt that much. She had to believe they were all right. Her parents must have been so worried, so horrified, to find their only daughter missing.
She felt Larisa’s concern through the link but ignored it. With effort, she pushed thoughts of home out of her mind, tightened her bootlaces, and strode ahead of Jakon toward the others. She froze as every eye turned to her before settling on Larisa. Jakon stood nearby and cleared his throat then raised dark brows at her sister.
“What? Oh, right,” Larisa said. “Time to go, everyone. The storm has passed.”
No one argued, which surprised Patrice. Everyone, Gail included, climbed onto their respective jabbers. With the girl’s promise not to run away, Larisa kept the girl unleashed, despite Jakon’s objections that Kepriah was not with them. Jakon mounted and pulled Patrice up behind him. She tightened her grip around his waist as the beast rocked to a standing position. I hate riding these damn things.
Palith had offered to keep an eye on Gail and he now held the reins of the girl’s jabber, Kepriah’s mount. Patrice wondered why Palith couldn’t take over as leader, since Jakon refused the burden. He had been a warrior, like Kepriah. And he looked about forty-five or so with a no-nonsense face. Gail seemed anxious around him. And she seemed to give him more respect than the she gave the others. Maybe he reminded the girl of the father she had lost.
In Patrice’s opinion, despite Jakon’s assurances that the man wouldn’t break his oath to Kepriah, she wasn’t convinced she could trust Palith alone with Gail, but she had little choice. Someone had to watch her, and Patrice certainly couldn’t do it. Gail was physically stronger and could probably whip her in a fight. Kepriah wasn’t here to make certain the men honored their oaths and, more than once, the younger ones had given Gail hungry looks that had nothing to do with the food she prepared. They had made an oath to Kepriah, but Patrice still fretted about the girl’s safety among all these men. Hell, she worried about her own skin. And Larisa’s. If the men decided to attack as a group, she doubted even Jakon could protect them.
Sure, she and Larisa had grown in their magic and had some control of the Faytools, but Patrice had failed to protect herself back at Damon’s palace. And that was only one man bent on harming her. She buried a shiver at that memory. None of them had been any good against the hedgegrass attack, not even Kepriah. According to Honor, they would become powerful sorceresses. Patrice had her doubts.
She glanced at her sister. Larisa was much better with her magic but seemed to grow more distant each time she used her talisman. An older person looked out of those blue eyes that now studied Patrice. Worry gnawed at what was left of Patrice’s nerves and left her even more agitated. The healer smiled at her and she gave a nod back, but she felt concern caress her senses.
Kepriah’s jabber stamped its clawed foot and shook its large head side to side as though it knew Kepriah wasn’t here. The movement didn’t faze Gail. The girl rode as if she had been doing it all her life. She probably has. She was raised on a farm.
Patrice tightened her grip around Jakon’s waist and squeezed her legs in the jabber’s side when it shifted its weight, eager to get going. I reall
y hate these beasts. Well, there is an upside to having Larisa in charge. At least I convinced her to take me off cooking duty. Kepriah wouldn’t have budged on that request. And cooking was one job Patrice gleefully avoided. Besides, Gail was much better at it. Oh, who am I kidding? Kepriah’s jabber is a better cook than me. If only Selenea had grocery stores and microwaves.
She noticed that everyone stared at Larisa again. The healer motioned them forward and the jabbers took off at a trot. Patrice’s butt protested as she landed hard in the saddle but she bit back a whine. She had never been on a horse in her life, much less a large creature like these jabbers. Despite the overbite that made them look stupid, their size demanded a good amount of respect. An adult jabber’s leg was as tall as Patrice’s shoulder, and she knew those sinewy muscles could trample her in a second if she got in the way, not to mention what those claws might do.
Jakon urged his mount to ride even with Larisa and twisted around to look at her, which probably wasn’t easy with Patrice still clinging to his waist, but she wasn’t about to let go. “You all right, Second?” he said in a low voice.
“Yes, Jakon. Just get us out of here. I want Kepriah back.”
“As do I, Noble. Let us move while these tracks are still fresh.”
The jabbers set into a quicker trot, Jakon’s mount in the lead, and Patrice bounced like a child’s ball in the large saddle behind him. At least she didn’t have to try and steer one of the damn things herself. I miss cars.
She tried to get her body into stride with the beast. She had done it before, with effort and very sore thigh muscles, but this time just couldn’t seem to get the rhythm. Instead, she focused on Ched, one of Palith’s men, to try and keep her mind off the pain. Ched appeared older than the others with Palith and was probably the most handsome guy she had laid eyes on since meeting Jakon. He had hardly said more than a few words since he pledged his allegiance to Kepriah, which gave him a mysterious air.
Patrice hadn’t wanted a man’s attentions in a while but she liked Ched’s solid structure and quiet temperament. Another painful jolt in the saddle took her attention off the man. Once again, she tried to get into riding rhythm without success. Finally, she gave up and simply gripped with her thighs to try and minimize the bouncing. Ched-gazing would have to wait.
****
Jakon had kept them at a trot, and after traveling for what seemed an eternity, Patrice’s legs cramped. The air was cold but she still broke a sweat. She relaxed her legs to ease her cramps and hoped the jabbers would slow to a walk soon. Just when she thought her teeth would jar from her head, Jakon reined the trotting beast to a stop.
“What is it?” she said into his right ear.
“Just checking tracks.” He lifted his chin toward a steep slope. “Seems they headed that way.”
“Guess we’ll have to walk.” Patrice could hardly contain her relief.
“No need. Jabbers are especially good with climbs.”
“Damn.”
Jakon let out a low chuckle. “You all right, Third?”
“Peachy. My butt will be raw by the time we get where we’re going if you keep trotting this damn thing.”
“You sound very much like your eldest sister when she detests doing something.”
That took Patrice by surprise. She had never heard Kepriah complain. To anyone. Well, yeah, the woman bitched and ordered everyone about but she never whined. And Patrice knew she was whining, on the inside anyway, whether it sounded that way or not. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a warm bath, a cup of coffee, and good book right about now. Reading about adventures like this was much more enjoyable than living them.
I never asked for this. All the women on Earth and I had to get Sorinieve’s attention. Loss caused her throat to constrict and she pushed away thoughts of Earth with as much effort as she could muster, but it didn’t stop tears from stinging her eyes as the jabbers began climbing the steep hill. She clung to Jakon and buried her face in his broad back. She had to squeeze her knees into the beast’s side to keep from sliding backward. A fall that far would bruise her good, or break something.
In her mind, she envisioned finding Kepriah unharmed, locating the boy they’d been searching for, getting Gail and him to the Pewter Throne, and living happily ever after, preferably on Earth. It was a stupid, naive daydream, but it comforted Patrice.
Before she knew it, they had reached the top of the hill and leveled off. She started to relax but Jakon pushed the jabber to a trot again. Patrice bounced in the saddle, pain radiating into her sit bone and up her spine each time her butt hit the hard leather. Even her woman parts were getting a beating. She wondered how men ever learned to ride and still have a sex life. But she could see some of the men in her party. Their muscular thighs worked to keep their bodies in rhythm with the mounts, especially Ched’s thighs. He certainly knew how to handle a jabber. Hell, even Larisa was a decent rider. Nothing like Kepriah, of course, but she looked comfortable in a saddle.
A moan escaped when Patrice landed particularly hard against the saddle, a direct result of her concentration wandering.
“You all right, Third?”
“Splendid, Jakon. Just splendid.”
He chuckled but kept the beast at a trot until they reached a tree-lined dirt trail. Then he set them to a gallop, the cold breeze flapping everyone’s cloaks. Patrice bounced less when the beast was at a run but the jostling side to side gave her legs a workout just holding on, which moved the pain from her butt to her thighs again.
No winners in this race. I’ll be sore as hell no matter how slow or fast Jakon keeps us going.
Suddenly he reined the beast to a stop. A felled tree blocked their path and the trunk had to be eight feet tall on its side. Jakon urged the jabber to its knees. When he helped Patrice down, her legs nearly gave out on her and she massaged her thighs, trying to alleviate the overworked muscles. I’ll never get used to riding. Jakon gave her a sympathetic glance before inspecting the tree.
Palith trotted up on his jabber, with the reins of Gail’s mount in one hand, and dismounted. He whistled. “That will take a while to get around.”
Jakon nodded. “Yes.”
Patrice glanced at both men. “You think Nyanan caused this?”
“No. Last night’s storm toppled it.”
“But how? The thing is huge.”
“See the roots?” Jakon pointed. “Rotted. With all the rain lately and last night’s wind, it could not remain upright.” He looked where the top of the tree had landed, took a few steps, and studied the area. Even from Patrice’s vantage, she could see a good amount of the valley beyond. Jakon shook his head. “Land is too sloped on this side, even for jabbers. We will have to go around it by way of the roots.”
“Why don’t we just go over it? I thought jabbers were good climbers.”
“They are,” Jakon told her. “But this is not large enough to climb. And jabbers legs are not long enough to step over without pain to their tender undersides. Dim-witted as they are, we would never convince them to do it.”
Larisa stepped to them. “Then we have to go around.”
Patrice eyed the large roots sticking out from one end of the tree, or what was left of them. Not far from them was a patch of shrubs with golden berries.
“We have to blindfold the jabbers, first,” Palith said.
“Why?”
Jakon turned to Patrice and pointed to the golden berries. “Those are ale shrubs and they have fermented berries. Jabbers cannot resist them. And there is no way in hell or Hollow we would get drunken beasts to move anywhere. We would be stranded here for hours.”
Already fermented berries? Well that saves a huge step in winemaking, I’ll bet. “Won’t they smell the berries when we go past?”
“Only if we get too close. Jabbers have a lousy sense of smell. But they will see the berries and go straight for the shrubs.”
“Aye,” Palith uttered. “And no man alive is strong enough to keep a jabber from his ale.”
Jakon and the rest of the men laughed.
The ring vibrated against Patrice’s finger and she studied it. “Let me try something first.” Jakon lifted his chin toward Larisa and Patrice turned to face her sister. Oh yeah, I forgot. Gotta ask permission of the one in charge. At least she’s more understanding than Kepriah. “Larisa, I might be able to help.”
Her sister nodded. “Go ahead.”
With concentrated effort, she drew on her magic and thought about wrapping several air whips around the trunk. She had never lifted anything this large and didn’t know whether it would work, but she had to try. A magical word pushed from her lips, then another. Something pressed down on her, threatening to take her breath, but she held on. As the tree lifted slightly, Patrice fell to her knees. It took all her will not to give in. The more she practiced a certain magical skill, repeat performances would become easier, and the less strain it put on her body. She kept reminding herself of that.
Larisa called out to her but she ignored the woman. I can do this. Kepriah needed help. A groan escaped as she lifted and shoved the air whips. She felt like something pushed her body into the dirt and her knees ached with the pressure. She would do this. She had to. An eternity seemed to pass as she worked, though she knew that was just an illusion, a distortion of time because of the difficult task. Sweat ran down her back and temples and she shivered with cold, but she held onto her concentration. Just a little more to the right. She managed to move the tree several feet before collapsing along with her magic.
Even so, she had cleared enough room to get the jabbers through and the men congratulated her. Despite her weariness and the sweat that ran down various parts of her trembling body, Patrice felt satisfied. Consistent practice had paid off finally, and she had done something useful with her powers. Jakon nodded to her like a proud parent as he helped her to her feet.